Domestic
by Tafar
Summary: In which Spock is domesticated, Kirk is feeling old and an interesting argument arises. Spock/Kirk hints of Sulu/Chekov . Warnings for Hard M and fluff.


Domestic  
Part 1/1  
Rating: M  
Pairing: Spock/Kirk, Hints of Sulu/Chekov

Story Summary: In which Spock is domestic, Kirk is feeling old and an interesting argument arises.

Story Warnings: Explicit slash, ahoy! If this isn't your bag, then ship off.

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount, CBS and Desilu studios. I own nothing nor do I gain any profit from my writing. This is all done in the spirit of good fun.

~~~~~

April 20, 2278

If Vulcans were capable of anything nearly as unseemly as purring, Spock was sure that he would be. Luckily enough, Vulcans were NOT capable of such a thing.

Luckily.

It was a sunny San Francisco afternoon in the middle of a balmy spring, bedecked with fragrant coastal breezes. Spock was stretched out peacefully in his favorite armchair, a deep red leather affair so beaten by time that it pillowed the Vulcan's body easily. A heavy edition of Alice in Wonderland sat in his slender lap and a delicate teacup perched precariously on the edge of the polished end-table next to him. He was nestled deep into a set of traditional robes, the absolute picture of relaxation (if such a thing could be said of such an austere race). Perhaps he was allowing his human side an afternoon of play.

The warm, halcyon sunshine off the bay cast a soft halo of golden light across the shining black of Spock's immaculate hair. The welcome heat soaked into his heavy robes down to his bones, casting a deep languor over his lean frame. At the moment he was alone, his mate gone to attend to pressing Federation matters for the afternoon, leaving the entire apartment flat to Spock. It was comforting to have some alone-time even though the still-young Vulcan had to admit that the house seemed to be missing its thriving heart without the presence of the Admiral. Spock sighed…not that he'd ever admit he did…after all…Vulcans did not 'sigh'.

Of course, Vulcans did not yawn either…but that was exactly what Spock found himself doing as the ennui of a lazy afternoon settled over him like a well-loved blanket.

Spock ran his fingers gently over his worn old tome for a moment, silently grateful that it had been on the Enterprise with him when Vulcan had been destroyed. It was illogical and sentimental, but holding that fragment of home felt almost like holding a little piece of his mother in his hands. He never pulled the book down when Kirk was home. Mate or no, Spock would rather swallow his own tongue than let on that he still missed his mother…than let on that he was any less than perfectly composed. It was part of the reason why he loved having the occasional afternoon to himself. Allowing the corners of his mouth to quirk up just faintly, Spock found himself repeating the familiar passages, extremely grateful that there was no one around to witness his pointlessly maudlin display.

"Presently she began again," Spock repeated as he read, "I wonder if I shall fall right THROUGH the earth! How funny it'll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward…"

He shook his head softly as he mulled over the nonsense words that he knew by heart, trying to imagine his mother's voice saying them as the lassitude of the hour slowly took him. Spock didn't even feel his eyes beginning to slide shut and he wasn't aware of the slack in his shoulders. He rolled his head back on his neck to stretch out his stiff muscles, his posture slipping a bit. His slim brows drew together, an errant sunbeam whispering across the bridge of his nose for a moment before slipping behind a cloud and leaving him in peace. Sufficiently lulled, the half-Vulcan couldn't help but drift off into a light sleep against his will.

~***~

"Damn, my fingers are about to fall off! If I'd thought that accepting a position as admiral would mean MORE paperwork, I'd have stayed a captain!"

Jim Kirk, now a lively 45, slouched his way through the door of the apartment that he shared with his longtime husband, Spock. He'd spent the majority of the day slaving away over what he saw as useless paperwork. What he hadn't spent busting his fingers over PADDs was spent sincerely missing his days as a starship captain and plotting to get back into space. For now, however, he was just happy to be home. Now then…it was time to liven this day up. A surprise cuddle attack was necessary.

If only he could find a certain uptight hybrid and make his sinister plot a reality.

The blonde man prowled through his home, checking at all of Spock's usual haunts. He examined his husband's computer station, almost pouting when he didn't find him there. He tried the small study area next and was once again frustrated in his efforts. Spock didn't seem to be dug into any of his usual work areas and it was somewhat baffling for Kirk. Where the hell else would Spock be if not working his ass off? Lips pursed, Jim wondered if maybe the other man had left the house. The very idea was somewhat depressing.

Jim sighed and ran a hand through his messy blonde hair before wandering into their living room, intending to raid his liquor cabinet. He was pretty sure there was some Romulan Ale left over from his birthday (Bones was really a considerate gift-giver).

One could only imagine Kirk's surprise when he found his errant lover nestled up asleep in their old armchair.

Of course, having been mates for so many years, Jim had watched Spock sleep before. Even though Vulcans required a great deal less sleep than humans, they still HAD to sleep from time to time and Spock was no different. He worked until he needed sleep and then he slept until he didn't need to anymore (although Jim strongly suspected sometimes that Spock only shared their bed some nights purely to indulge him. The thought was cute, but not one he'd ever broach with his somber husband). Kirk had never EVER seen Spock NAPPING though. It was adorable beyond words and Kirk couldn't suppress the riotous grin that broke out over his face.

Spock's face, now only slightly lined with age, was completely smooth and free of the heavy authority the half-Vulcan carried around with him like a shield. His rigid edges were relaxed and softened. Jim mused that, in this state, his mate looked far younger than he had even 20 years ago. Immediately, the former captain abandoned his itinerary of 'tackle, annoy and cuddle' in favor of just watching the relaxed half-Vulcan sleep. There was almost innocence about Spock this way and it turned Jim's grin into a sincere smile as he padded over, gently plucking the book from his lap and examining it. He chuckled to himself and moved the book to the side.

Jim felt like a kid on Christmas morning as he watched his Vulcan sleep. It was such a rare treat and he didn't intend to do a single thing that would ruin the moment. Well…maybe ONE thing. He gave into temptation. Unable to contain himself, Jim leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Spock's fever-hot forehead.

Hey, he was only human!

There was a little flutter in Jim's belly when he watched those dark lashes twitch, eyelids slipping up to reveal eyes the color of Swiss chocolate. All it took was one intense look from those sleepy eyes to melt Jim from his core. With all of his insides a soupy mix of puppy-love, the handsome admiral found that he couldn't utter a single word. All he could do was stare at the eyes that had captivated him for the past two decades. For a moment, all was still as the two men simply gazed at one another, one groggy with half-banished sleep and the other utterly star-struck.

Spock's purring tenor broke the silence, "I had not expected you back so soon, Jim."

"It's 18:00, Spock," Jim flashed him one of his lopsided, playboy grins, "It's not exactly early anymore."

Jim was a connoisseur of his husband's expressions. After 20 years together it was hardly surprising. Of course, from the beginning Jim had been more adept than most and Spock had always been remarkably skilled at hiding his emotions. He still was…just not from James Tiberius Kirk. Jim knew every cocked eyebrow, every twitch of the lips and every crinkle of the deep eyes. Right now he could tell, no matter how hard Spock tried to hide it, that his mate was experiencing deep surprise…and a little bit of chagrin?

Spock blinked at Jim, "I had not realized the lateness of the hour. I must have slipped into a deep period of unexpected slumber."

This time Jim's smile was so big that little crow's feet pulled at the edge of his blue eyes, "You took a nap, Spock."

"…Most unbecoming," Spock chastised himself, stretching his back without really moving.

"It was just a nap, Spock. People take them sometimes. Were you just that bored without me?" He waggled his blonde eyebrows.

For a moment, there was silence before the taller man conceded quietly, "The apartment does seem to lack a degree of energy while you are away on business, Jim."

There was that little melting sensation in Jim's gut again and his smile turned a little bit less dazzling and a little bit more dopey. He could think of nothing to say about the statement, so he simply moved on, "I noticed you fell asleep with your mother's book."

"So it would seem."

The admiral studied his mate's eyes carefully to gauge what he was feeling. There was a small flash of embarrassment like lightning against the soft brown. Underneath the mild storm was something more tender, a flicker of remembrance. So Spock had been thinking about his mother. Jim sighed softly and walked over, folding the muscular Vulcan into an embrace. He was gratified when Spock didn't even flinch. He was elated when, instead, Spock leaned into the muscular circle of his arms. For a moment, the two of them just stood together, Jim's cheek against his husband's hot collarbone. After a long day, Jim let the heat soak into his muscles and relax him.

The next time Spock spoke, it was into his trimmed blonde hair, "You have had a long day, my Adun. Sit and I will prepare some coffee."

Flopping easily onto the couch (the chair was Spock's little spot, so Kirk let it be), Jim waved his hand dismissively, "No coffee tonight, Spock. If you give me that stuff, I'll never get any rest."

"Would you prefer anything else then, Jim?" Spock asked, turning from his original path to the kitchen.

"As much as I love watching you be domestic, I'd much rather you come and sit with me for a spell. All I could think about today was coming home to you and now I'd like to actually DO that. Now then…would you please SIT down?" Kirk stressed, patting the couch next to him with the same impatient energy that Spock had long ago come to associate with his adun.

The edges of Spock's lips turned up just-so, demonstrating a level of amusement that he would never vocalize. Jim was okay with that. Between them, there was so little that actually needed be said. There was a common understanding between them that was only half fostered by the mating bond that held them together. As it was, Jim could feel soft tendrils of faint humor drifting over from Spock's side of the bond and it was a comfortable sensation. It was even more comfortable when Spock settled down on the couch next to him obligingly. Just like a happy housecat, Jim snuggled up to that warmth, laying his head on Spock's shoulder.

"Is this better, adun?" The Vulcan asked in a vaguely teasing tone of voice.

Jim just grunted contentedly, "You know I saw Chekov today."

"No. I did not know that, Jim."

"Ha ha, smart ass. Bones is deluded if he thinks for one second you didn't get our jokes on the Bridge."

"What did he say, Jim?"

"Huh? Who? Bones?"

Again there was that almost-smile of mirth, "No, Chekov. You told me that you saw him today."

Huffing in frustration at his mate, Jim crossed his eyes slightly before continuing, "He and Sulu are doing well. Apparently little Demora turns 7 next month and we've been invited over for a small celebration. Bones is going to come."

Spock lay an apologetic arm over his husband's shoulders, "Well then, we shall have to be sure to attend."

"Good," Jim said smugly.

"Now then, Jim…about your earlier comments concerning my domesticity…" There was a glint in the Vulcan's eyes that spoke of pure mischief.

"What? It's true! I mean, you fell asleep waiting for me to come home and when I finally came back you tried to make me coffee! If that's not the perfect wife behavior, I don't know what is," The grin that Jim wore now could best be described as his 'shit-eating' one.

It took Spock a grand total of ten seconds to wipe it off his face, "Jim, you are aware that in Bonded couples it is the Vulcan male who is considered the husband…the adun. As I am the only male VULCAN in this relationship, I do believe that YOU would be the adun'a…the wife."

There was a look of satisfaction written across Spock's face as Jim gaped at him, fighting to make a comeback, "Yes, Jim?"

"…Sometimes I think Bones had you pegged right," Jim settled on a pouty scowl.

Spock pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Kirk's mouth, "Perhaps he did, but you chose me anyway. I suppose that means that you are, how is it you say, 'stuck with me'."

Giving up on his feigned vexation, Kirk relented and turned to capture Spock's mouth in a full kiss, sighing softly as their tongues met. Immediately, the stresses of the day faded away. Anything and everything that wasn't his adun just turned into static, white noise against the backdrop of his pleasure. He felt a hot, long-fingered hand sliding into the lapel of his uniform and he sighed softly into Spock's mouth, nipping at his lips. Spock watched as Jim's sky-blue eyes rolled back under his ministrations, smirking ever-so-faintly and allowing his hand to drift south, fingers massaging tanned skin firmly as they travelled.

"Spock…SPOCK!" Jim broke the kiss, panting, pupils dilated sharply.

"Hmmmm?" The half-Vulcan asked lazily, already kissing a fiery trail down his husband's neck, making it hard for him to think.

The human's voice was a growl, "Bedroom. NOW."

"As my adun'a wishes," Spock's brown eyes were teasing even if the rest of his face was stone as he stood, reaching down to pick up his beloved, emotional human.

From his spot in Spock's powerful arms, the blonde man snorted, "If you keep trying to bait your commanding officer, I'll have you in irons."

"I sincerely doubt the strength of your threats, Jim. While we are together in our home, you are not my superior nor are we soldiers. You are my T'hy'la and can be nothing more when you are with me…for truly there is nothing more…nothing GREATER…to a Vulcan," Spock's velvety tenor was rich with the unfamiliar heady strains of lust and rarely displayed love.

The words rendered Jim nearly speechless with their power and he was silent as Spock took him into their shared bedroom, placing him with great care on their bed. As he felt the familiar weight of the stronger man settle on top of him, he knew that there was simply nothing else to be said. He spread his still-lean legs obligingly, cradling his husband's hips against his pelvis while his hands struggled with the intricate clasps of Spock's robe. There were times when Jim suspected that the damn things were a better contraceptive than condoms for as difficult as they were to remove. Hell, just get rid of Vulcan robes and the colony could double its population in a year flat!

He was interrupted from his thoughts when he felt a hot mouth settle against the small dip in his collarbone. When had Spock gotten his shirt off? Did it matter? Jim groaned softly as the half-Vulcan's dexterous hands wandered down into the waistline of his pants, deftly undoing both buttons and zippers while evading the burning epicenter of his arousal. Each fingertip left fire smoldering in its wake as the pants were pulled slowly (Too slowly!) down his legs, Spock nipping a trail down to his navel as he went. If the clasps of Spock's robes had been difficult to remove before, they were damn near impossible now. Instead, Jim just settled for massaging the sensitive hollows behind his mate's pointed ears, enjoying the sounds of muted delight from the other man.

By the time he was completely nude, Jim was trembling like a bowstring wound too tight and Spock seemed effortlessly pleased, eventually undoing his robes himself. In all the universe, Spock was the only one who could do this to Kirk. Only his hands and his touch could reduce the Tomcat of the Galaxy to any form of submission and it was only with him that Kirk would have allowed such a thing. There was a power in this, but Spock was never a man to care for power…only for his T'hy'la.

"Spock…it's been a very…very…LONG day and I can't take any more waiting. Mmmm...do me now. I need to feel YOU," Jim purred, tugging on Spock's toned shoulders until they lay skin to skin. He tangled his hands in the half-Vulcan's shining obsidian hair, giving it a pull.

That simple contact sent electricity racing between them and Spock could no more deny his mate now then he could the blood fever. He reached for their bedside table and located the nondescript tube they kept near at hand, leaning back on his haunches while Jim watched. The human took the tube away from Spock and liberally coated his own hand while the half-Vulcan nudged his legs apart. Smiling like the cat that swallowed the canary, Jim reached forward and wrapped his greased hands around his mate's cock. He could see the veins in Spock's neck tighten as he fought not to make a sound, his hands clenching in the bedsheets by Jim's raised hips. Through their minds Jim urged and Spock could do naught but obey.

Unprepared, Spock's entry was almost excruciating and Jim squirmed, throwing his head back and gasping until the man atop him bit his shoulder to distract him. Firm hands grasped his hips, pulling him back onto the invader as it nudged forward. Jim threw his legs around his lover's sculpted hip-bones, grasping the headboard with both hands to steady himself as Spock continued to sheathe his manhood inside. Only after the half-Vulcan's hips touched his backside did he learn to breathe again, cracking open his blue eyes to stare deeply into the inferno that burned behind Spock's own. Jim unwound a hand from the headboard to entwine with his husband's, gently rubbing their index and middle fingers together as Spock began to move.

Each thrust was like Spock himself; firm, decisive and perfectly calculated to elicit the best possible response. Jim's mind went white with the pleasure of it, his mouth open in a silent cry. The only sounds he could make as he rocked under the force of those thrusts was the occasional choked moan, each dying in his throat as if the wind was forced from him every time Spock seated himself. It was only moments before the human began to sweat, his back arching beautifully and his hips moving in little figure-eights. He wouldn't last long. Both of them could feel it.

Spock captured his mouth again and Jim was sure he would have bruises in the morning, but oh how he would cherish those tender marks!

When Jim finally came, sweating and gasping, eyes half-lidded and hair plastered to his forehead, it was strong, but gradual. He felt like he was riding on a steadily swelling wave until at last he reached the crest. His body surrendered to the ecstasy and he shuddered in climax, every muscle tensing all at once until he collapsed against the bedding. Spock's hand tightened against him as he finished several minutes later, giving Kirk time to just enjoy the lazy thrusts into his body without the desperate anticipation of orgasm. They shared one more kiss, this one simple, sweet and tired.

After cleaning both of them off with a fresh rag taken from the bathroom in a moment of rest, Spock drew Jim close against him. Jim smiled and allowed himself to be spooned, using his last moments of awareness to fully appreciate the strength of his husband's body. There were still wiry muscles hidden there beneath the skin even after two decades and, in moments like this, Jim didn't quite feel as old as he usually did. He sighed happily, feeling Spock stroking his hair.

Jim chuckled softly once he had his breath back, "I guess that didn't make much of a case against me being the wife, huh?"

An almost-there kiss brushed the back of his neck, "Go to sleep, Jim. We may continue this discussion in the morning." The lilting amusement was back.

"Mmmm fine…but if I wake up and there's coffee ready tomorrow, then you have to be the wife for the day."

"We shall see."

With that, Jim Kirk fell asleep safe and sound in the circle of his husband's arms.

Both of them knew that when he woke up in the morning his usual cup of coffee would be waiting for him and both of them knew that Jim would tease, but most of all, both of them knew that they wouldn't have it any other way.

~***~

A/N: Well, that story didn't go anywhere I wanted it to, but ultimately I'm disgustingly pleased with it. Since this is set in the year 2278 in the Alternate Timeline, Jim is 45 and Spock is 46. As for the pairing, no it's not canon. Not one little bit. I fully acknowledge that they were both just very close friends and comrades…but you know what? I wrote it and enjoyed it anyway!

Let me know it you enjoyed it, too!

(The funny part? This isn't even a pairing I'm crazy about.)


End file.
